


The Date Night Shirt

by Sporadic_Writer



Series: Clothes Make the Man [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9668648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sporadic_Writer/pseuds/Sporadic_Writer
Summary: Yuuri could all too easily picture his future gravestone engraved with a deprecating message like “Here lies Katsuki Yuuri, the man who so regretted not buying a shirt.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was working on another Yuuri on Ice story, but it was hard to write. But I felt inspired to write this one!

Like everyone, Yuuri has his fair share of regrets, not the least of which was not training Vicchan better in avoiding cars in their sleepy town. Some of these regrets he's confided in Phichit or Celestino, and more of these regrets he's since shared with Viktor. His parents didn't believe in secrets between partners, and neither did Yuuri. He tried not to hide anything from Viktor, at least not deliberately.

But Yuuri didn't think he'd ever share this particular minor regret with anyone. It just seemed so shallow, and Yuuri could all too easily picture his future gravestone engraved with a deprecating message like “Here lies Katsuki Yuuri, the man who so regretted not buying a shirt.” 

He hadn't thought of that shirt in years, and after deciding not to buy it, Yuuri hadn't second-guessed his choice until now. He could hardly believe it, but when Viktor pointed it out with a cheerful smile, Yuuri had to agree: they hadn't ever gone on a proper date yet. Maybe they've watched a few non-skating related videos together, and they've eaten many meals together, most of them late lunches or dinners at the nearest cafeteria or cafe if Yuuri couldn't wait until they got back home. And maybe they've shared the onsen in relative privacy countless times, and yes, there was that intimate evening spent exploring Barcelona, but they hadn't—-Wait.

“You're not counting Barcelona?” Yuuri asked confusedly. “We took photos at all the sights, and we ate at a restaurant. You even insisted on paying for the dinner so hard that you smacked my hand when I touched the bill!”

Viktor gave him one of those flat looks that meant Yuuri should step up to the job of being a fiancé and a future husband better. Be more romantic and discerning when it came to Viktor's feelings.

“Why do you think it counts?” Viktor asked patiently in return. “We weren't on a date. We were being tourists. And you still didn't know how you felt about me even when you were putting that ring on my finger.” He gave the gold adorning his hand a much softer look than he had been favoring Yuuri with.

Yuuri opened his mouth to protest before shutting it sheepishly. He had to admit that what Victor said was not untrue. He had still been sorting out all the complicated emotions and thoughts that Viktor stirred within him, and Viktor had said nothing to him about it, but Yuuri knew that Viktor's happiness in receiving his ring was a little marred by Yuuri chickening out and calling it a good luck charm.

Viktor put a cool hand on Yuuri's slightly hot cheek, and he leaned all the way into Yuuri's space, his long torso pressed up against Yuuri's. “Yuuri,” Viktor murmurred sweetly, “let's go on a date tonight. You know what you feel for me now, so show me.”

Yuuri supposed that most people would be envious if their significant other could still put them into a daze with just a touch and some soft words. After mindless agreeing to what Viktor had asked, Yuuri had walked away to call Makkachin's favorite sitter, and then he had opened the newest Detective Galileo novel Mari had sent him and read three chapters before restarting because he finally realized he wasn't actually reading any of the lines.

An hour before they were supposed to head out, Victor was dropping Makkachin off at Anton's house, and Yuuri was standing in front of his closet and realizing to his despair that he was one of those people. Phichit and Yuuri had made fun of one of their rinkmates, Pedro, for his tendency to agonize over his clothes before date nights with his girlfriend, and now Yuuri mentally apologized to the other man for being judgmental.

Yuuri's eyes darted to the clock, and he wondered if it would be less embarrasing to be caught still trying to get dressed when Viktor came back or to just wait resignedly for twenty minutes and then ask Viktor to help him choose his outfit. He flipped through a few more hangers on his side, but nothing inspired him.

Plopping down onto their bed, heedless of the stray water drops that fell onto their coverlet, Yuuri lay down and crossed an arm across his eyes. The stiffening gel in his hair scratched lightly at his skin as he rubbed his temple. He thought wistfully now of the shirt that he had failed to buy more than four years ago.

He couldn't remember exactly when the trip took place, but it had been shortly after Yuuri phased out of the junior competitions and into the senior ones. Phichit had been genuinely happy for Yuuri and amiably jealous that he had to wait his turn, being a few years younger. Phichit had also taken it upon himself to cajole Celestino into letting them fly to New York City on their own for a weekend celebration. Their coach had started to agree before backtracking and eying them both doubtfully. Yuuri flushed as Celestino's skeptical thoughts crossed his face in a clear procession, but Phichit had gaily and immediately placed his hand on his heart and proclaimed, “Don't worry, Ciao Ciao! I'll take care of Yuuri, and he'll take care of me. Okay?”

In the end, Celestino had agreed to the trip, and Yuuri wasn't sure if the man was simply wary of Phichit being a bother if he didn't agree or if Celestino had foreseen that Yuuri would find joining the seniors to be hell on his nerves and thought that a break might alleviate some future tension.

Regardless, a week later had seen Yuuri in New York City with his best friend, and Phichit had been more than ready, with his orderly list of places to see and various maps. The clothing outlet hadn't been an intended destination, but their reservation to join a boat tour had fallen through when the guide discovered a mechanical failure and had apologetically issued tickets for the next morning. With an hour and half to kill, Phichit had suggesting buying some souvenirs for their family and friends, especially the rinkmates they'd left behind in Detroit, still training hard. 

They'd wandered into a nearby shopping mall and spent an uncomfortable ten minutes window shopping and looking discreetly at price tags before exchanging a mutual uneasy and shocked expression. When they made it back out of the mall, they had looked at each other before bursting into laughter that grew from nervous to utterly relieved.

“That was the Twelve Oaks Mall of New York City, I bet,” Yuuri joked when he was done gasping for breath.

“We wouldn't even have to leave Detroit to see those huge numbers!” Phichit agreed, still giggling hysterically.

“Hey, I think that street has some outlet stores,” Yuuri said, pointing across the road to a narrow side street. “Maybe they won't be so scary.”

When they entered the clothing outlet, Yuuri's attention had been primarily on the knicknacks and novelty items lining the shelves nearby the cashier area. Then while he was examining a glass apple bauble, he noticed that his shirt sleeve actually had a hole in it. Frowning, Yuuri fingered the edges of the hole and realized that it was likely to grow bigger from the natural stretch of daily wear. That would be a pain since he had packed simply by just including enough clothes for a two-night and three-day stay.

“Phichit,” he called, “I'm going to look at some of the shirts over there. I think I'll need a new one for this weekend.” Phichit, who was staring greedily at a personal size lava lamp and rifling calculatedly through his wallet, gave him an absent nod.

Yuuri mentally prepared himself to wince, but the 30% off sign attached to the first rack was encouraging, and the first shirt that caught his eye was only $20.99. That was reasonable, Yuuri figured, seeing as how he was in a touristy area.

Yuuri picked his way quickly through three racks and made his way to the small dressing room in the back. He put his three hangers on the metal stand and accepted the plastic sign labeled with a 3 from the attendant before entering the unoccupied stall, one of four. 

Yuuri shrugged on the grey turtleneck that had looked comfy on the hanger, but on his body, it felt stifling and a little itchy near the collar. He made a face before pulling on the second shirt, a simple long-sleeved black one with a texture that had felt nice against his hand.

The shirt was more tight-fitting than he had expected, but it fit smoothly against his shoulders and chest, and it thankfully didn't highlight his soft stomach, not toned yet after his eating binge last month when he realized that he would be going to World.

Yuuri turned in the stall to view himself from side to side, and he moved farther away from the mirror and looked himself over from head to toe. The shirt brought out the breadth of his shoulders and lay smoothly over his pectorals, giving an outline of his upper body that was somehow distinct but classy. Shyly, Yuuri raised an eyebrow at himself as he realized that he looked damn hot. He also noticed that the shirt wasn't actually black like he first thought. The light striking the shirt at different angles as he moved brought out the deep blue undertones, and Yuuri liked the shirt even more. 

But the thought struck him that this was a sexy shirt, a date night shirt, and when would he even be going on a date? He had no boyfriend and no prospects in the near future either that he could tell. He had thought that Phichit would be the type to fix up dates for his friends, but Phichit had made a face when he brought up the topic and explained apologetically, “I don't do that. It gets messy. If the relationship fails, then people want to kill the messenger—or the cupid in this case.”

Yuuri prided himself on being a practical person who was raised to be financially responsible, and he just couldn't spend $23.99 on a shirt that he wasn't going to wear any time soon. He considered the idea of wearing the shirt on an everyday basis or even to the rink for practice, but that wouldn't work out. The shirt was sexy, and since Yuuri didn't normally wear sexy clothes, then he would stand out a lot, and people would think that he was trying to get attention, and that would be mortifying, and maybe people would stare or even talk about what he's wearing behind his back. 

Yuuri regretfully put the shirt back on the hanger and hung it on the same hook as the rejected turtleneck. 

The third shirt was a simple white dress shirt, the type that Yuuri had owned ever since he achieved enough acclaim in figure skating to do interviews. He tried it on for size, but even he wasn't boring enough to get one more dress shirt to add to his current collection of five.

Yuuri looked at the three shirts and considered their prices and the pros and the cons. 

A few minutes later, he left the changing room and collected Phichit on his way over to the nearest cashier. They put their respective hauls on the counter, and Linda, as her name tag said, asked pleasantly, “Did you find everything you wanted? Anything else you'd like to add?” Yuuri shook his head as he watched her deft hands remove the security tag from the white dress shirt before refolding it along smooth lines.

“Yuuri, I'm back!” came Viktor's voice from down the hall, and Yuuri stifled a startled cry as he came out of his daydreaming. He leapt from the bed and ran to the door, which he promptly locked. Then he stared at the door and berated himself for being the kind of loser who locks the bedroom door against his own fiance.

“V-Viktor! Don't come in yet. I need more time to get dressed,” Yuuri shouted through the barrier as he heard Viktor's footsteps stopping a few feet from their bedroom.

A quiet pause, and then Viktor replied, “Okay, you still have twenty minutes before we have to leave.” He sounded oddly happy, and Yuuri wondered why until he realized that Viktor thought he was taking extra time to dress up and look better than usual. Fuck. He was going to be disappointed big time. Why did 20 year old Yuuri have to be such a boring cheapskate? 

Yuuri sighed as he opened the closet door again and looked at each shirt and pants carefully before finally choosing a simple pair of tan chino pants and a thin v-necked heather sweater that he hadn't worn in a long time. At least Viktor wouldn't have seen this particular combination in a while. Surprise?

Glumly, Yuuri opened the door to meet Viktor's blue eyes and smiling lips, which parted into the semblance of a heart. Viktor breathed, “Oh, Yuuri! You look wonderful,” and he held a gentlemanly arm out as he swept one more look up and down Yuuri and then gave a sly wink when he was caught. 

Yuuri smiled back and took Viktor's arm.


End file.
